


Days

by seekingsquake



Category: Iron Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, F/M, Falling In Love, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-12
Updated: 2016-01-12
Packaged: 2018-05-13 08:26:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5701678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seekingsquake/pseuds/seekingsquake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce asks Tony about his best days. Tony keeps it in mind, even after everything is over.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Days

**Author's Note:**

> I know absolutely nothing about medical practices.  
> I've never done anything like this before.  
> I'm sorry.
> 
> All characters belong to Marvel. I don't own anything except a bracelet with an angry Hulk on it.  
> Please do not repost or reupload this piece anywhere without consent. If you ask, I'm sure we can work something out.

“Tell me about the happiest day of your life,” Bruce says quietly over coffee, his eyes warm and his voice soft, his whole body folded toward Tony ever so slightly.

Maybe Tony should tell him about the day he heard choppers and Rhodey found him trudging through the sand. Maybe he should tell Bruce about being fifteen at MIT and building a robot that could listen and make decisions and want to help. Maybe he should tell him about yesterday, waking up next to the most beautiful brown eyes and most unruly nest of curly hair that he’s ever seen in his life. It all feels like too much too fast though, so Tony says, “Friday. Every Friday,” and even though it’s dishonest and deflective, Bruce still laughs.

“You know,” he says, one hand curled around a large green mug, the fingers of his other hand tapping away at the back of Tony’s hand on the tabletop, “When I ask the kids that question, a lot of them say something similar.” His smile is always somewhere between painfully gentle and utterly delighted when he talks about his class, and it never fails to make Tony’s heart stutter. It’s a good look on Bruce.

Tony laughs, because he knows Bruce is feeling fond when he starts comparing Tony to the five year olds. “Yeah? What about the happiest day of _your_ life?”

Bruce doesn’t answer right away. He drums his fingers against Tony’s skin and his brows furrow just a little. “My mom took me to Central Park once,” and it’s not what’s Tony was expecting. They’ve never spoken of their families before. “I was young and they had zebras at the zoo. We tried to count them when they were standing all together, grazing, but I kept losing track because staring at the stripes did funny things to my eyes. We got ice cream.”

It’s a simple memory, and it’s old. Just from the cadence of Bruce’s voice, Tony can tell that it’s precious, that it’s faded with love and age. He feels a little guilty about the fact that he didn’t really offer Bruce an answer, but then he grins it away when Bruce adds, “I think it was a Friday, actually.”

Maybe in the morning he’ll tell Bruce something real. But for now, this is enough.

✧✧✧

Pepper and Rhodey herd him into a back booth and trap him in the corner against the wall. While Pepper orders appies and drinks, Rhodey looks at Tony very seriously before taking a breath and saying, “It’s been six months and we still haven’t met your boyfriend.”

“You,” Pepper snaps, faintly accusingly, “haven’t even told me his last name. I haven’t even been able to Facebook stalk him. You’ve only shown me one photo. You talk about him literally all the time, but I still don’t know shit.”

“What is this, are you ganging up on me?”

“It’s time, Tony,” Rhodey insists. “It’s time we get a little more than this guy’s first name.”

“Have you even brought him to the penthouse?” Pepper asks. “Is he someone who might know people that we know? Does he still look the same as in that photo? How are you still being so tight lipped about this?”

“Oh my God, you are, you’re ganging up on me. We’re taking it slow,” Tony mutters, reaching for his drink and a chicken wing simultaneously as the waitress returns and puts everything onto the table.

“Taking it slow,” Rhodey repeats as Pepper snorts and declares, “You’re Tony Stark, you’ve never taken anything slow in your life.”

He snorts because she’s not totally wrong. But he has been taking things slowly with Bruce, and he knows it’s irrational but he kind of just wants to keep Bruce to himself a little while longer. “All I’m willing to tell you is that he is a flawless piece of man. He is attractive, he is mentally stimulating, he is emotionally engaging, and he is interested in interesting things.”

“Holy shit,” Rhodey whistles as he leans back in his chair and takes a swig of his beer. “Pep. He didn’t even say anything about the sex.”

“He hasn’t told me anything about their sex life!” she shrieks, and all three of them are already a little drunk, otherwise she wouldn’t be shrieking. “He always tells me too much about his sex life, but if I didn’t know any better I’d think they weren’t even having sex because he hasn’t said literally anything. But it’s him, so. I mean. They have to be having sex.”

If Tony were sober he might be offended. But maybe not. Instead all he can think to say is, “Jesus, when did you start saying ‘literally’ the same way as Rob Lowe in Parks and Rec?”

Rhodey laughs so hard he almost spills his drink, and Pepper shrieks, and neither of them remember to bring up Bruce again until after the third round of beers and a plate of nachos.

✧✧✧

“He’s a kindergarten teacher,” Tony admits. It’s about one in the afternoon. Pepper’s making scrambled eggs and Rhodey’s got his face pressed into the granite of the kitchen island. They’re all hungover. “He’s a kindergarten teacher, he moved to New York after getting a doctorate in theoretical physics and realizing that he liked people better than numbers and theories, he’s well travelled, and his favourite book is a poetry anthology only about space. He only wears his glasses sometimes, he’s great in bed because he does yoga, and his favourite food is ridiculously hot curry. And I swear to God, one hundred percent serious, I think I dreamed about a wedding last night, so there’s that.”

It comes out all in a nervous rush, the rambly word vomit that Tony’s particularly known for amongst his friends and closest employees, and Pepper is staring at him like she’s never seen him before and Rhodey looks like he’s somewhere between applauding and throwing up. “You love him,” Pepper murmurs, abandoning the eggs and stepping around the island to drape herself over Tony’s back and press her face into his hair. “You love him. Have you told him yet?”

“We’re taking it slow,” he reiterates. “Oh and. Uh. His last name’s Banner, if you still want to. Ah. Facebook stalk him.”

Rhodey reaches for his phone immediately.

✧✧✧

When Tony lets himself in, Bruce is sitting on the floor with his back against the couch and a bunch of worksheets spread out in front of him. He doesn’t look up when he says, “When I was in university I figured I’d write equations that would somehow save the world or something. But come look at this! These simple addition problems are so cute. This is way better.”

Tony collapses onto the sofa, and then positions himself so he’s got Bruce bracketed between his legs. When he looks down, he sees a page that has a handful of extremely simple addition equations with the answers penciled in in juvenile printing, and there are smudged blobs crossing back and forth across the page. “What are those?” he indicates the blobs with his toes, and Bruce holds the worksheet up and studies it for a moment.

“I think they’re bunnies,” he answers eventually, then puts the page down and keeps marking the paper quickly. “Or jellybeans. This particular child’s a visual learner and drawing pictures helps her figure things out.” Then he wraps an arm around one of Tony’s leg, rests his face against Tony’s knee briefly, and takes a deep, slow breath. “Did you have fun with your friends last night?”

“Yeah,” Tony responds, twining his fingers into Bruce’s hair. “It was good. They asked about you.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“And what’d you tell them?” Bruce sounds amused and curious and Tony can picture the look on his face: pursed lips to fight off a grin, left eyebrow cocked only a little.

“Your last name.”

“Ha!” Bruce’s laughter is always heartfelt though short lived, and the bursts of it always make Tony feel like he’s done something good.

✧✧✧

“So, you’re not due for a check-up for another few months, Bruce. What brings you by?”

Bruce has known Betty Ross since before she got her MD, and she’s been his doctor since. He tries not to see her in the office too often, usually only stopping by for vaccinations and bi-annual check-ups. “I know I’m getting old,” he starts a little self deprecatingly, and she grins as she looks at him. “But I’m just feeling really achy in my joints. I’m not sleeping too well, having migraines on a regular basis, and I’m bruising up really easily in comparison to even a few months ago. I’ve tried to cut back on my caffeine and sugar intake, and I started taking melatonin before bed, but nothing’s helping.”

She frowns at her clipboard as she makes her notes. “Well,” she says slowly, “That doesn’t sound too severe to me, outside the sleep issues and the migraines, but why don’t we do some general blood tests and see if there’s anything unusual going on with your thyroid and such? Until we get your results back, for the time being, just stay hydrated. If you develop more symptoms or your current symptoms get any worse, call me.” She hands him a form that has her ordered tests on it when she says, “You can get this done at any lab, and I’ll call you with the results as soon as I get them, okay?”

He hugs her when he stands, and she pats his back fondly before sending him on his way. It’s an afterthought when she calls, “When are you going to spill the beans about that secret boyfriend of yours?”

Bruce laughs before he turns a grin to her. It’s sharp and shit-eating and not an expression that’s found in his natural repertoire. He must have picked it up from said secret boyfriend. “We’re taking it slow,” he shoots at her, and it sounds like he’s parroting someone, and she can’t help but laugh. Must be some man, she thinks to herself, that can get Bruce Banner to feel a little sharp around the edges. She watches him walk out of the clinic and thinks that maybe she likes this new side of him.

Yeah, she likes it.

✧✧✧

They’re wandering around some outdoor market, and Tony’s got a scarf wrapped around the lower part of his face and a knit cap pulled down almost to his eyes. It’s cold for October, but there’s no snow so it could be worse. He saw Clint and Nat from his security detail fluttering around earlier, shadowing him and Bruce while “pretending” to be a couple themselves, but he’s lost track of them now.

He and Bruce haven’t been out together very often because Tony’s not ready to see his lover plastered all over US Weekly and TMZ just yet. It bothers him when it concerns Bruce more than it bothered him with any of the others. Maybe it’s because the people he used to fuck around with had wanted the exposure. Maybe it’s because getting Bruce into public eye means that it’ll probably interfere with his job, with the kids. Maybe it’s because this means something this time. But no matter the reason, he’s put his shields up around Bruce, so they haven’t been out a lot. This unusually cold weather gives them a little lee-way though, because it’s hard to spot celebrities when everyone’s bundled up, and Tony usually winters in Malibu so everyone is expecting him to already be gone.

Tony’s standing at a stall selling silk scarves, thinking about picking something up for Pep when Bruce wanders over to a stall a few places down. Tony keeps an eye on him, and sees as a small boy runs, weaving around people, and collides with Bruce’s legs. The boy falls to the ground and lays there quietly for a second before wailing, and then Tony gets to see Bruce in action.

Bruce kneels beside the kid and helps him to his feet, then pulls a small pack of tissues from his coat pocket and wipes the boy’s face. He can’t hear what they’re saying to each other, but he sees the boy nod and then grab Bruce’s hand as Bruce stands. He’s still holding his hand when Bruce turns and makes his way back to Tony.

“Somebody’s lost,” Bruce murmurs as he slips his free hand into Tony’s pocket and twines their fingers together briefly. “I’m going to take him to the map board and ask someone if there’s a PA system.”

“I’ll come,” Tony tells him, not willing to let his hand go.

Tony likes children well enough, but he’s never wanted any of his own. He had figured that since Bruce’s career revolves around kids, Bruce wouldn’t really feel the need to have any either. But now, watching Bruce talk to the little boy, seeing the look on his face... Now Tony thinks that he was wrong. He’d be an idiot to miss the wistfulness in Bruce’s eyes, the longing, and when the child’s mother finds them and whisks her son away, Bruce almost seems reluctant to let the boy go.

They leave the market soon after, drive back to the Tower and sneak in through the back. Only the security people ever see Bruce, and it’s almost become a game of sorts now, seeing how long they can sneak Bruce past all the receptionists and Pepper and everyone else. They’ve been dating for just about eight months now, longer than Pepper and Rhodey figure, and nobody outside who they’ve told has any idea. And they’ve only told people who can keep them safe and keep it secret.

They smuggle themselves into the penthouse, and they laze together on the sofa before eating a delivered dinner and crawling into bed together. Tony manages to hold off until after sex to ask Bruce, “You want kids of your own someday?”

Bruce doesn’t even hesitate. “Yeah, eventually. I’m getting a little old now, I guess, but I always figured I’d be married by this point in my life, you know?”

“To a wife?”

Bruce’s eyes look almost black in the dark as he levers himself up onto an elbow and looms a little over Tony. His fingers are gentle on Tony’s face, tracing the lines of his lips and the crooked bridge of his nose. “I love you,” he whispers, his eyes fluttering shut as if he’s afraid to see Tony’s reaction. “Yeah, I always pictured myself with a couple of kids, but I love you and we haven’t been together very long, and I don’t want to talk about it right now, okay?”

Tony doesn’t know how to feel. He feels devastated and elated and afraid. He wants to tell Bruce that he loves him too, but he doesn’t. Instead all he says is, “Okay,” and Bruce lies back down and curls himself into Tony’s chest. Neither sleep, but they don’t speak to each other either. When Bruce gets up in the morning to go to work he plants a soft kiss on Tony’s temple but doesn’t say a word.

✧✧✧

Betty sounds uncertain over the phone. “I want to do more tests.”

“Is something the matter?”

The thing is, she doesn’t know. “There’s a little anomaly, but don’t worry just yet. I just want to do some more tests.”

She hears Bruce take a breath. “Okay,” he says, and he sounds like he’s bracing for a storm.

✧✧✧

“Is it bad to break up with somebody because he wants kids and you don’t?”

Rhodey looks away from the TV with surprise on his face. “You guys talked about having kids?”

“Not, like, with each other,” Tony clarifies as he fiddles around with his tablet. “But enough to know that we’re not gonna see eye to eye on the topic. And I figure starting a family isn’t something you can really compromise on, y’know? Like, if he wants four kids some day and I never want any, meeting half way means having two kids and that’s not. That still leaves me with two kids that I don’t want. And if we stay together but never have kids, he’ll always be missing it, so. I figured I’d just.”

“Dump him.”

“Well, yeah.” Tony won’t look up from his tablet, even though he’s not doing anything.

Rhodey knows that facial expression like the back of his hand. “You don’t want to, though.”

Tony flops back onto the couch with his whole body and sighs heavily. It’s dramatic and juvenile, but so very Tony. “I really fucking don’t want to.”

“Better now than when you’re both too in love with each other to cut your losses though.”

“The kids thing is a deal breaker, right? I mean, people get divorced over this shit, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Rhodey sighs, and it’s really too bad. “The kids thing is a deal breaker.” Bruce had seemed so good for Tony.

✧✧✧

It’s after midnight when Bruce calls. They haven’t spoken for over a week, and Tony sort of figured that that was that, that it was the least dramatic break up in history. Apparently not. “Hey, what’s up?”

Bruce sounds awful. “Did I wake you?”

“No, I was just doing some work. Are you alright?”

There’s a shuddery breath pulled from the other side of the line before Bruce whispers, “Can I come over?”

Tony doesn’t want to break up with Bruce at quarter to one on a Wednesday morning after having him drive halfway across town. Then again, he doesn’t really want to break up with Bruce at all. “Yeah.” He still doesn’t know what he’s going to do.

“I just. I just need to see you. I.”

“Bruce, I said yes. You can come over.”

“Okay, I just. God. Tony, I.” He’s crying. Shit.

“Okay, just stay put. Are you at home? I’ll come to you.”  Tony’s not sure it’s a good idea, but he figures it’s probably not a good idea to let Bruce drive, and it’ll be faster for him to go there anyway. Happy doesn’t care too much for speed limits. “I’ll be there in twenty, okay? Just. Just stay put.”

Out of everyone in Tony’s inner circle, it’s Happy that’s seen and met Bruce. Being Tony’s driver and unofficial head of security, only Happy had really needed to, but his approval had meant a lot, and even though they’ve only had one conversation he’s got a soft spot for Bruce like you wouldn’t believe. “Is Doctor Banner okay?” he asks as they drive, and Tony can only shrug.

“He didn’t sound too hot, Hap.”

“Tell him I hope he feels better, Boss.”

“Will do, Buddy.”

✧✧✧

Bruce is waiting on the porch when the car pulls up. He’s wearing at least two sweaters over his fleece sleep pants, and he’s in a pair of boot style slippers. His skin is weirdly pale under the porch light, and his eyes are puffy and red. Tony walks up the steps and reaches for him, but he jerks away almost violently. They both freeze and for a moment everything just stops. Then the hurt settles in both their chests and Tony’s hand drops back to his side. “This is a break up, yeah?”

He can see the fog in the air when Bruce exhales. “Probably a good idea,” Bruce concedes, and his voice is flat, toneless. It’s a weird noise to Tony; Bruce’s voice is usually so expressive.

“Because you want kids and I don’t?”

He doesn’t expect Bruce’s head to jerk up, for Bruce’s eyes to look surprised. “What? No, I... You didn’t tell me you didn’t want kids. I wouldn’t... I don’t think that’s enough for me to-- That’s not a deal breaker for me, Tony.”

That gives Tony pause. “It’s not?”

Bruce’s laugh is rough, strained, nothing like normal. “No. I’m a teacher; I see hoards of kids five days a week. I’d kind of given up on the idea of kids for myself, even if I would have liked... But it doesn’t matter now. No, Tony, I--,”

“What do you mean it doesn’t matter? What you want is always going to matter, Bruce.”

“No, I. Tony...,”

“Because just saying, if this isn’t about the kids thing than I don’t want to break up. You make me so. Bruce, fuck, you make me so happy and I don’t. I don’t want to let that go over something that I’ll fix if you give me the chance.”

“No, Tony, listen.” Bruce goes back to not looking at him. He’s shivering, and Tony wants to fold him into his arms but thinks about the flinch from earlier and just barely manages to keep his hands to himself. “A couple weeks ago I went to the doctor because... Something about my body just felt off. It was just a general feeling, I can’t explain it, but they did some tests and.” Bruce’s breath stutters, and it sounds like he chokes a little. “Tony, they don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

It’s an odd collection of words that Tony isn’t sure what to do with. “They don’t know what’s wrong with you?”

“I’m... I’m sick or something. And they don’t know why or what it is or if it’s going to get worse before it gets better or if it’s going to get better or if it’s. If it’s just going to get worse. They don’t know what medicines to give me, everything’s an experiment right now and I. They can’t tell me anything and I don’t want to die, Tony, I don’t want to fucking die but I--,”

“It’s fatal?”

“They don’t know! They don’t know anything! I don’t know anything. I don’t... I don’t think we should be in a relationship when. We haven’t been together for very long and I can’t ask you to. Tony, I’m so scared and I can’t ask you to...,”

Tony can’t hold himself back anymore. He grabs Bruce by the arm and reels him in, holds him close and tight. Bruce is trembling, and then he sobs, and Tony feels the force of it in his bones. “We’re not breaking up,” he murmurs into Bruce’s hair. “I’m going to be here for you. You thought I’d let you feel all this shit on your own? You thought I’d let you be scared like this by yourself? Fuck you, Bruce. I love you, you asshole, so fuck you.” He rubs Bruce’s back, feels Bruce’s shuddering in his fingertips, and just holds on tighter. “Come home with me. Let me take care of you.”

“Can’t,” Bruce mumbles into the curve of Tony’s throat. “School in the morning.”

“Then I’m gonna stay here,” he insists, and when Bruce doesn’t argue he tugs him into the house.

✧✧✧

Bruce deteriorates shockingly quickly from there on out. He’s nauseous and vomiting all the time, his skin in flakey and dry no matter how much water he drinks or how much lotion he uses, and he’s so pale that his veins look like a spidery blue map under his skin. He was already fairly slight in stature for a man, but he’s shrunken down to the point where he weighs next to nothing, he’s got two permanent black eyes, and he’s always cold, always trembling. He’s in a lot of pain, his joints stiff and his muscles tender and prone to spasms, and he’s on a diet of pills that Tony doesn’t even know the purpose of or how to pronounce.

He stops going to work because he can’t stay on his feet and keep his food down anymore, can’t handle the noise of the kids without wanting to crack open his skull and pull out his brain. Tony’s too scared to leave him alone in his house way on the other side of town, so he moves Bruce into the penthouse to keep an eye on him and play nurse.

The doctors still don’t know what’s wrong, let alone how to make it better.

When Pepper and Rhodey first meet him, they come into the room to find him asleep on the couch, his head on Tony’s lap and a small trash can on the floor near Tony’s feet. “Hey,” Tony murmurs when he hears the elevator slide open and his friends come into the room. “Bruce wanted to cook dinner for us tonight, but it’s been a rough day.”

Pepper’s face is full of concern, and Rhodey looks like he’s very purposely trying to mask his facial expression. “It’s getting worse?”

Tony sucks in a breath that puffs out his cheeks, then lets the air hiss out from between his teeth. “Y’know? I can’t really tell. He was in so much pain last night that he was sort of delirious, but on Monday everything was pretty much fine except for how exhausted he was. I’m getting whiplash just from watching the way his symptoms yank him around; I can’t imagine how it must feel for him.”

Nobody speaks and nobody moves for a good few minutes, and then it’s Pepper that takes control. She says, “It was sweet of him to want to cook for us. What was he planning? Maybe I can handle it.”

As Rhodey takes a seat in the arm chair nearest Tony’s end of the couch Tony thinks about moving Bruce back into the bedroom and letting him keep sleeping, but Bruce shifts and murmurs sleepily before he can make any decisions.

“Tony?” His voice is weak and rough, and his face is already twisted in the discomfort that plagues his waking moments. “What time is it? I told you to wake me before they got here so I could get everything ready.”

“It’s okay,” Tony soothes, and he’s all too aware of Rhodey’s eyes on him. “Pep’s gonna whip up some food and then we’re just gonna watch a movie or something, okay? Are you cold, do you want another blanket?”

Bruce takes a trembling breath instead of responding, and then uses Tony’s body as a handhold as he struggles to sit up. He smiles tiredly at Rhodey, and then leans over to shake his hand. “Hi,” he murmurs, his eyes happy even under everything. “I’m Bruce. I’m sorry it took so long to meet you.”

Rhodey shakes his hand and Tony can tell that the grip is lighter than usual. Pepper bustles in with a plate of apple slices, cheese, and crackers, and she smiles brightly when she sees Bruce sitting up. “Hi, I’m Pepper. Are you hungry? I did up a snack for you guys for while I figure out dinner.”

Bruce smiles at her and introduces himself as he makes to stand. Getting to his feet is a slow process and he grits his teeth through it, Tony’s hands on his arm and back to keep him steady. When he’s finally up he gives Pep a friendly kiss on the cheek. “I’ve got some wine in the pantry if you want. Let me handle the food.”

“Bruce--,”

“Please? I haven’t had any outside company in a while and I used to love to cook.”

“Only if you let me help,” Pepper concedes. “I’m not much of a cook anyway. Maybe you can teach me a thing or two.” They disappear back into the kitchen, Bruce trying not to lean too heavily on her as they go, and Tony pops a piece of cheese in his mouth as he watches them.

“You doing okay?” Rhodey asks after a while, and Tony just sort of shrugs.

“It’s tough,” he admits quietly. “And sometimes he hates me for the fact that I won’t just let him die in a pit somewhere, I think. But. Having him here is better than squirreling him away in some hospice somewhere, and being with him is better than breaking up and worrying about him anyway. Besides. He’s still. Like, this hasn’t actually changed him too much. Everybody thinks he’s gonna croak but I’m not so sure. He’s tough.”

Before Rhodey can get his thoughts together enough to respond, the silence is broken by the sound of Bruce’s laugh in the other room. He still sounds like himself somehow, if a little exhausted, and there’s something about that that keeps Tony hanging on.

✧✧✧

Tony doesn’t meet anyone in Bruce’s inner circle until Bruce starts talking about maybe sorting out his will. It’s a non-conversation, really, because Bruce brings it up and then Tony hightails it to the workshop because he can’t handle even thinking about Bruce dying. When he come back up an hour later, feeling guilty and scared, there’s a woman sitting with Bruce on the living room floor, backs against the couch and wrapped up together in blankets. His head is on her shoulder and he looks to be fast asleep.

She looks up at Tony and spares him a small smile before westling one of her arms free from the blankets and extending it to him. “I’m Jen, Bruce’s cousin. Hope you don’t mind me showing up; he called so I came.”

Tony hesitates for only a second before sitting on the floor beside her and shaking her hand. “Nice to finally meet you; Bruce talks about you a lot. I’ve told him that he can have people over whenever, but lately he hasn’t been feeling up to a lot of company.”

They sit in silence for a few long moments before Jen speaks up again. “Don’t worry about his will or any of the legal stuff. I’m a lawyer, I’ll help him. You’re doing enough.”

He doesn’t want to think about losing Bruce, but lately he can’t help but think about death. About coming up from the lab and crawling into bed and finding Bruce’s body, cold to the touch. About returning from having lunch with Pepper and finding Bruce lying on the floor, too weak to have gotten up when he fell, blood pooling around his lips. He thinks about trying to find the right suit to wear to the funeral of a man you’ve only been dating for less than a year, of trying to explain to Bruce’s friends that, “I’m sorry we never met but I loved him.”

He looks at Jen now, and his throat is tight when he whispers, “It doesn’t feel like it. If I was doing enough, I’d make him better.”

It’s weird, that they feel so comfortable with each other when they’ve only just met, but Jen just leans against him. “He’s used to struggling, but he’s not used to giving up. I’d actually be sort of surprised if this is what does him in. I always figured he’d get into a fight with the wrong people, or go to a foreign country to build schools and have a giant rock fall on his head or something.”

Tony snorts, but his eyes are wet, and he rests his cheek against the top of Jen’s head. Bruce is still fast asleep, and his breathing is a little laboured but not as bad as it was last night. And it’s okay. It’s... It’s been worse.

✧✧✧

Betty comes to see him in the tower. She brings all his test results to him because she hates giving bad news to her best friend over the phone, and he doesn’t leave his boyfriend’s house anymore. She doesn’t mind. Stark cares about him almost painfully much, and it makes Betty happy to see that, even if she’s devastated that Bruce is a barely function mass of human cells now.

She’s got hopeful news today, though, so.

“What’s this mean?” Stark asks, his eyes wide and his voice ragged with emotion. Bruce is too busy being pragmatic to get his hopes up, but Betty’s pretty sure that pragmatism isn’t something Stark ever got the hang of.

“It means that... Right now, things are looking up.”

She squeezes Bruce’s hand (gently, because his body is so frail now) and tries not to stare too much as Stark sinks to his knees beside the chair Bruce is sitting in, buries his face in Bruce’s lap, and sobs. She does watch Bruce’s other hand though, as it combs through Tony’s hair.

✧✧✧

Bruce eats a whole bowl of soup without throwing up, and Tony kisses him as a celebration, and they have a bath together. Bruce falls asleep before they even get out of the water, and maneuvering him out of the tub and into the bed is a challenge, but Tony is happy. Hasn’t been this happy in a while.

✧✧✧

Bruce sleeps through the night for the first time in nearly six months, and Tony attempts to cook breakfast when he finally wakes. The food doesn’t work out too well, but they’re both too pleased to mind. When Betty had said that things would probably start to get better, Tony had been almost too scared to hope. But Bruce is actually getting better, he’s doing things now that he hasn’t done for a long time, and Tony can’t pretend that he doesn’t see it.

He’s loading the dishwasher and Bruce is just sitting at the table with a book when  it almost overcomes him. “I love you,” Tony says, suddenly and forcefully, and Bruce startles so badly that he rips the page he’s reading just a little.

✧✧✧

“Tell me about the happiest day of your life,” Bruce whispers. Talking is hard for him now, but his eyes are trained on Tony like he’s afraid that he’ll close them and Tony will be gone.

Tony thinks about the days they were getting to know each other, the days they spent falling in love, the days they traded secrets and met each other’s friends. He thinks about when Bruce was getting better, and all the days they woke up beside each other, and walking through the park and dinners in front of the TV. He thinks about answering with a joke to make Bruce smile, he thinks about saying “Every day that you’ve been with me,” to make Bruce blush, he thinks about telling Bruce to get some rest so that he can think about it more while Bruce is sleeping.

Doesn’t go with any of that, though. Instead he says, “The day that I met you,” because that day led to all the others, because without that day he wouldn’t have had anything else and all the good days before it would have been for nothing.

Bruce manages the smallest of smiles, and his fingers twitch across Tony’s palm as if he wants to squeeze his hand.

Tony never believed in soulmates until he met Bruce. And then he believed that he was made to carry Bruce through to the other side, made to teach Bruce that he was loveable and worthwhile and precious. Every fiber of Tony’s body was fashioned to be exactly what Bruce would need. And it’s paid off.

Bruce can’t breathe on his own anymore, and his heart can’t beat without help. He’s been hooked up to machines in a hospital for weeks and everyone keeps thinking that it can’t get any worse until it does. He’s losing time now, starting to forget where he is, and why, and once not too long ago he forgot his own name. In the moments that he’s lucid he tells Tony that he loves him, that he wishes Tony didn’t have to see this but that he’s so thankful and grateful that he isn’t alone, and sometimes he cries.

He’s not used to giving up, but he’s losing his ability to do anything else.

“Tomorrow,” Bruce whispers, and his lips are cracked and his words almost get lost in the whooshbuzz of the ventilator.

“Tomorrow,” Tony agrees, and he kisses Bruce’s hand because that’s the only thing that won’t hurt him. And Bruce sleeps through the night. And Tony turns off the machines.

✧✧✧

They’re having a picnic. Tony watches as Bethany tries to get their daughter to eat her grapes before he tries a different tactic, juggling a handful in the air before catching them all in his mouth. “MMM,” he exaggerates for her, and she laughs before popping a few into her mouth.

Bethany smiles at him before dragging her fingers through his hair. Then Maggie catches both their attentions again as she toddles out onto the grass. She rips a couple wildflowers out of the dirt and toddles back over, dropping them right at the foot of Bruce’s headstone.

Tony smiles at her before pulling her into his lap. “Okay Princess, tell Uncle Bruce about the happiest day of your life.”

She thinks for a moment, looking up at Tony and then over at Bethany before saying softly, “Friday,” and Tony laughs. The sun is warm on his skin and Maggie is warm and alive in his lap, and Bethany feels good beside him. He knows Bruce would be smiling. Fridays are good days.


End file.
